


I’m Fine

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: Tumblr 1st Cas-iversary Celebration drabble request by @trinityjadec – “Hi! Could you write a drabble where the reader is feeling a little self-conscious, so Castiel just cuddles with her and makes her feel better? Super fluffy if possible?” Hope you enjoy!





	I’m Fine

“Good morning,” Castiel glanced at you over the newspaper he was reading, sitting up a little bit taller in his chair and straightening his skewed tie.

You didn’t respond to his greeting - too caught up in a negative spiral of self-conscious thoughts to notice the blue-eyed angel seated at the table.

Cas frowned, noisily folding the now forgotten paper into a disorganized heap, watching you grab a glass from the counter and mope to the kitchen sink to fill it, still seemingly oblivious to his presence. He cleared his gravelly throat.

Startled, you spun around, splashing water across the tiled floor in front of you, stammering, “Oh, uh, hey. I didn’t think anyone was up.” Persisting in its destructive goading, your brain snapped back, _Well, that was a stupid thing to say – you know he doesn’t sleep_.

“Hello Y/N,” Cas nodded politely, a concerned tilt to his countenance. “You seem,” he paused, eyes narrowing in thought, “out of sorts today. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you offered an unconvincingly cheerful smile in return, “fantastic, really. You know me - everything’s great, just great!” Clutching the glass of water to your chest, fortitude crumbling under the steady regard of those sparkling blue eyes, you sucked in a shaky deep breath and darted into the hall.

Castiel understood enough about human behavior to know when you so emphatically insisted you were fine that you were most certainly the complete and exact opposite of fine. What he didn’t know was why you were troubled, or how to help. As if they contained the answers he sought, he stared at the newsprint ink smeared hands entwined in his lap. He immediately dismissed the temptation to simply peek into your thoughts. If it were Sam, or Dean, he might have intruded – but you were different. It’s not that he didn’t care equally about all of you. No, he cared differently for you - wanting to protect you above all else, even from himself. He turned his focus instead to deliberate on the events of the last day to determine what could be bothering you.

Yesterday’s hunt had been a resounding success with the monster ganked and no one injured or worse. During the obligatory post-hunt celebration at a nearby dive bar you appeared to be in good spirits - laughing easily at Dean’s corny rehashed jokes, playfully arguing with Sam about the exactitude of Latin enunciation required when reciting spells, and smiling often at the silently observant seraph in the fond manner reserved only for him that made his angelic grace warmly tingle - a feeling which very much reminded him of flying. You’d drowsed peacefully, shifting in your sleep to rest your head upon the angel’s lap in the backseat of the Impala on the drive home with Cas ensuring the pleasantness of your dreams when he carried you to your bed, carefully removing your shoes, tucking you in for the night, lips lingering tenderly on your forehead before he bid you a whispered goodnight.

Dean wandered hungover into the kitchen, rubbing his aching temples, socked toes stepping squarely into the cold puddle of water you’d left behind on the floor. “Son of a-,” Dean lifted a sopping wet foot, punching at the air, “freaking animals! I live with freaking animals.”

Castiel pushed away from the table, ignoring Dean’s antic show, striding into the hall to find you.

“Well good morning to you too, sunshine,” Dean grumbled after him.

The angel found you curled up on the couch, tightly hugging your knees, face firmly buried in clasped arms. You clearly did not want to talk about whatever was nagging you. You had no injuries for him to heal. Yet perhaps he could speak to you in a language you were progressively helping him to learn and appreciate.

Although by no means fluent in its practice, the angel nevertheless knew touch was a powerful means of conveying what words could not express and for reaching wounded places in the soul only the comfort of contact could heal. He sank onto the couch beside you, awkwardly settling a palm to your knee to let you know you weren’t alone.

You peered up, sniffling, eyes puffy and red, cheeks flushed and streaked wet. Blinking the bleariness of tears from your vision, watery eyes met the angel’s concerned sapphire gaze.

He initially flinched, surprised, when you threw yourself against his chest before relaxing and cuddling you closer. Winding strong arms around your shoulders and waist, he drew you into his lap, rubbing small reassuring circles over your back.

Melting into the comforting radiant heat of his body, your tears abated, his closeness gradually overpowering the insistent self-conscious doubts worrying your mind, imparting a prevailing sense of love and belonging in the corners of your soul where your own self-confidence failed to support you. Inhaling his clean scent, hearing the regular beat of his heart, weary from internal struggle, you drifted off, eyes fluttering shut.

Castiel affectionately nuzzled his nose and chin into your tousled hair. Aspect softening, blue eyes gleaming contentment, a relieved smile traced the contours of his mouth at having been able to help you despite not knowing what ailed you. Perhaps someday you would reveal he succeeded that day in saving you from the most sinister enemy you’d ever encountered – yourself.


End file.
